


When Your Heart Stops Beating

by CarylDixonandGrimes (FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: All Is Not As It Seems, Angst, Character Death, Hurt, I promise you, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please Don't Hurt Me, Rickyl Writers' Group, Tags May Change, Takes place directly after 6x16, This is my own interpretation of who the Lucille victims MIGHT be, diverts from canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:45:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8168879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN/pseuds/CarylDixonandGrimes
Summary: The aftermath of 6x16.  All is not as it seems, I promise you this.  Chapter 1 is a brutal kick to the gut, and I hope to make it up to you all before the end of this multichapter fic.





	1. Chapter 1

Rick clutched the red rag to his face.  It was all he had left of  _ him. _  Negan’s bat had fallen hard and fast against Daryl’s head.  The sound of the wood hitting bone had resonated an eerie tone, and was one Rick would never forget.  Nor would he ever forget the feel of brain matter, crushed bone, and the tendrils of Daryl’s hair against his hands as he had later tried in vain to make the man whole again. His hands had trembled fiercely, the blood oozed between his fingers as he had gathered up as much of Daryl’s remains as he could to bring home. To bury him.  

  


Glenn and Abraham finished filling in Daryl’s grave while Rick had against the wall, his eyes closed, listening as each shovelful of dirt increased the void between him and his lover.  And when the shoveling stopped, he felt Glenn’s hand soft against his shoulder, “Want me to get Carl?  Can I do anything for you?”

  


Rick swallowed hard, his throat too thick with emotion for words to spill out.  He shook his head instead, and turned away from Glenn, that greasy rag fisted in his hand and held to his chest, cuddling it as a child would a toy doll.  Hours later Michonne came, wordlessly coaxed him to standing, pulling his arm over her shoulder as she wound hers around his waist, and slowly she marched him back to the house he had shared with Daryl and the kids.

  


“The kids are with Maggie and Glenn tonight,” she murmured as they climbed the porch stairs. “I can stay with you… if you don’t want to be alone?”

  


Rick leaned heavily against the wall while she opened the door for him. Unable to meet her eyes he shook his head.  “No.  I need some time. I need….”  He pressed the rag to his forehead, his face twisting up in anguish.

  


“If there’s anything I can-”  Michonne was interrupted by Rick’s stifled a sob, and he shook his head shuffling past Michonne and into the house.  He couldn’t be around people.  There was only one person he wanted to be with in that moment, and he was buried in the earth, his body still warm.  Michonne waited for further response from Rick, but upon receiving none showed herself out, allowing the man the dignity to grieve in private.  

  


When the door latched shut, Rick let go.  He ran up the stairs to the room that he and Daryl shared, shut the door behind him and sat on the bed.  That red rag, twisted in his hands, he rocked back and forth with it clutched to his face unable to stop the tears.  He didn’t stop the crippling sobs that wracked him, and he cried until his throat was raw and his chest hurt from the exertion.  He fell into fitful sleep sprawled diagonally across the bed, spooning Daryl’s pillow to his chest, breathing in the scent of him which offered little comfort.  Soon that scent would fade. The scent of pine, leather, earth and motor oil.  So uniquely Daryl that it made his chest ache all over again knowing he’d never see the man again, never feel the touch of those callous hardened hands again.  He’d never feel the soft leather of his vest, he’d never run his fingers over the worn and stained fabric of the wings that had adorned it. 

  
He’d never again feel Daryl’s hand run up the nape of his neck and into the length of his curls, or how he’d clench them in his fist, pulling it just tight enough to bring out a delicious hiss from between Rick’s plush lips as he pulled him into a kiss.  He would never hear the low rumble of Daryl’s voice over the baby monitor as he sang “Hey Jude” to Judith on those nights when she was teething and couldn’t settle herself.  Or hear the play fighting between Carl and Daryl when Daryl decided to knock the sheriff’s hat off Carl’s head, which he did often.  

  
When Rick finally did wake up, it was just before dawn.  The sky clouded grey with a despair that matched his own.  Daryl would normally be up at that hour kissing his head, and whispering in his ear that he was off to check the snares and would be back before breakfast.  But Daryl’s side of the bed was cold.  And Rick was hit again with the harsh reality that Daryl was gone forever, and he was alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last we knew, Daryl was dead and gone. Buried by Glenn and Abe while Rick sat by reeling with the loss of his beloved. But all is not as it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the ever so lovely [CarburetorCastiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarburetorCastiel/pseuds/CarburetorCastiel) who reminded me that this story needed a resolution, and I do hope it's a satisfactory one.

Rick didn’t feel right.  He tried to open his eyes, but found he couldn’t.  Moving was not an option either, it was as if his body and mind were disconnected.  When he finally did open his eyes, he couldn’t quite focus on the scene before him, there was an incessant beeping from a location he couldn’t quite discern.  His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, he couldn’t speak even if he tried.  He tried to look around him, figure out his surroundings, what was going on.  There was shouting.  He could vaguely make out the shapes of his family lined up on either side of him, a figure pacing slowing back and forth before him wielding a bat in his hand.   _ What? No… How?  We’re back to this again?  _

The figure with the bat had stopped in front of someone down the line.  Rick knew what was coming, he yelled and screamed.  But no sound came from his throat.  Rick lunged forward towards the man, and received a blow to his own head and fell to the ground.  He tumbled and fell in such a manner that he could see Glenn and Daryl.   Daryl, weakened from his infected injury and blood loss wavered on his knees and fell to his side.  Glenn had called out, trying to reason with the man, but he simply held up the bat and replied, “Sorry pal, but I’m here to prove a point.”  The sound that followed was that of bat against bone.  Repeatedly, and in rapid succession.  There were sobs and screams, and the fuzzy images faded to black.

Rick woke up with a start in his own bed staring at the ceiling, his head aching and bleary from pain, so he shut his eyes and ran his fingers over the bridge of his nose.  Relief flooded him as he realized it was just a dream, it wasn’t his family versus Negan all over again.  That was over, it was in the past, and now he just needed to learn how to make it through the day without Daryl.  He stretched out his limbs, and then rolled over to pull Daryl’s pillow closer.   But his arm swung over a warm solid figure, and he jerked himself back, rubbing his eyes looking over to see who is in his space.  That disheveled mop of hair, the face is turned away but he can make out the scant greying hair across the chin, the elven ear sticking out from the tousled bed head.  He’s lying nearly on his side facing away from Rick, connected to IV’s and various monitors. But, it’s him!  It’s Daryl!  Rick wraps his arm around him, snuggling closer not caring if it was real or a dream.  If this was Daryl, he was taking advantage of every moment.  A hand placed over the man’s heart, he could feel the steady thrum of Daryl’s heart against it.  Rick buried his face in the nape of Daryl’s neck, nuzzling, soaking up his scent, it’s truly him.  Rick’s body shook with quiet cries as he spooned as much of himself up against Daryl as he possibly can.  Trying hard not to further hurt the injured man, but unable and unwilling to let go.  The beeping of the heart monitor increased as Daryl’s heart rate went up. His uninjured hand groped for Rick, capturing his forearm and he gripping it tight as he heaved out his own sigh of relief.  “Rick?” 

He gasped wearily, his own eyes filling with tears of relief and joy that his man is whole and alive beside him.  Daryl slowly rolled to his back, and Rick straddles Daryl’s lap, leaning down his tears dripping all over Daryl’s chest as he put his head to Daryl’s heart to hear it.  “You’re really here?  You’re alive?”

“Was just thinking the same…”

“Oh, God…” he huffed, “We buried you.  Glenn and Abe, they buried you…”

“No man, still here…”

Rick sniffled hard, and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes wiping away the tears before laying back down atop Daryl and burrowing his face into the man’s neck, Daryl’s free arm wrapped around him, clutching him tight.

Rosita entered the room, offering a weak smile as the two men carefully untangle themselves.  “I’m glad you’re both awake,” her voice cracked as she spoke.  She avoided eye contact, but the red rims of her eyes are unmistakeable.  “We put you both together here instead of the infirmary, figured you’d be more comfortable.”  She attempted to conceal a sniffle as she shut off the monitor and disconnected the IV’s from Daryl.  “There will be a small service later, at the church if you both are feeling up to it…” 

Rick and Daryl looked at each other and back at Rosita, “Service?”

Rosita’s face fell, and her chin quivered.  She swallowed hard, and ran a hand across her forehead trying to hold herself together.  “Not all of us made it back… We’re burying family today.”  When neither Rick or Daryl responded, she grimaced remembering they were both unconscious for the ride back to Alexandria, they didn’t know, and her tears fell.  “Glenn and Abraham.  We’re burying them today.  Negan and his men….”  Her hand flew to her tight pressed lips, and she shook her head.  She whispered, “I’m sorry,” and fled the room in tears.

“What…  What just… No.  No, but… No.”  Rick slid off to Daryl’s side, snuggling into the space at his neck.  “No…” he whispered, tears brimming anew in his eyes.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Rick whispered as he clung to Daryl.  “I… Daryl, Abe and Glenn buried you.  I watched.  I was there….” he repeated.

“Was just a dream…”

“But-”

“Mm-mm, s’okay Rick.  I thought I’d lost you.  Thought I was done for.  But I’m here, I’m alive.  Don’t make me feel no better ‘bout Glenn and Able, but… Can we just… not?”

Daryl’s good arm hugged Rick a little tighter, and the two men entwined their legs together, so as much of them was touching the other as possible.  They were ever so thankful to have each other, relieved even, but that they had lost not one but two of their own was a revelation.  This was no cause for celebration that they still had each other.  

There came a gentle knock on the door, and Carl’s head appeared around it.  “Rosita said you were awake, got somebody who wants to see you…” and Judith toddled in unsteadily, chubby fingers gripped tight around Carl’s finger.  

“Dada!” she shrieked when she saw Rick.  He tumbled out of bed, straightening the blankets over Daryl, and scooped her up in his arms holding her tight.  His lips quivering as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.  One arm around Carl, he kissed the boy on the top of the head and held him close.  “Dawuh?” Judith reached her plump little arms out toward Daryl.

“Bring ‘er here,” Daryl’s voice cracked, and his eyes were wet.  He had a special connection with Judith, and no doubt the events of the previous days had left him floundering.  Judith would help him find his center, even if it was in just a few moments of cuddling her close.  Rick tucked her in the space between his arm and body, tucking the blanket in snug.  She looked up at him so adoringly, reaching those little fingers out to run through the hairs of his chin, “Dawuh…” She sighed, and smiled at him.  With a sniffle, he smile back at her.  Rick spooned up behind him, and Carl pulled the chair to Daryl’s bedside.  “You going to be okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, man.  Just a scratch,” it was a lie, they all knew it, but Daryl made no effort to embellish. He would be okay, with time and patience, his wounds would heal.  “More worried about Rosita, Sasha, and Mags.  Let’s focus on them, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Carl nodded.  “I’ll get you guys some food.”  And Carl was gone out the door, and silently down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Is this real,” Rick asked, reaching out to run his hand along Daryl’s arm.

“Yeah, m’shoulder says so.  Hurts like a son of a bitch.  Don’t think death would be so painful if I was really gone.”

“Pinch me.”

“What?”

“Pinch me, man.  I wanna be sure.”

Daryl shifted on the bed, and squinted at Rick.  Judith began to fuss, so he snuggled her closer to him.  “Ain’t gettin’ kinky with you.  Not with Judith here,” he growled goodnaturedly, shoving Rick away, then groaning when the movement reminded him of his multiple injuries.  Carl appeared in the doorway with a tray of food.  He set it on the bedside table, and both he and Rick helped Daryl to get propped up on the pillows.

“Rosita gave me some ibuprofen for you both.  Dar, you’ll definitely need it.  Dad, you probably have a concussion,” Carl held his hand out to Dary with the pills clasped inside.

“Mm-mm, I’m alright for now-”

“Dar, your arm… just take it.  Keep on top of the pain so it doesn’t get too overwhelming,” Rick insisted. Daryl still refused, “Just lemme get somethin’ in my stomach first.”

So Carl placed the tray in the middle of the bed, pulled Judith into his lap, and together the four of them ate.  Rick fed pieces of food to Daryl, who surprisingly allowed it.  He gave up fighting it, as that took more effort than simply laying there and letting Rick have his way.  And Rick smiled tenderly at Daryl, and Carl and Judith, thankful that his little family was still ‘whole.’

When the food was all eaten, Judith began to fuss in Carl’s lap.  “Joo go ni-ni,” she whispered as she laid her head against Carl’s shoulder.  

“Give Daddy some love honey, then Carl will tuck you in,” Rick held out his arms to Judith who crawled over and wrapped her chubby little arms around his neck.  “And don’t forget about Daryl.”  He held the little girl out to Daryl who pressed a kiss to her tiny forehead.  “Ni-ni, Dawuh!”

“Ni-ni, asskicker!” Daryl whispered as Carl carried her out of the room and shut the door behind him.

“Asskicker?  Really?”

“It fits her…”

Rick snorted, and laid back against the pillows.

“So you were askin’...” Daryl looked at Rick, wrapping his fingers around Rick’s hand.

“Hm?” Rick hummed, looking back at Daryl.

“Is this real?”

“Is it?”

“I’ll show you real, come closer,” Daryl tugged on Rick’s hand, pulling the guy in.

“Closer,” he whispered when Rick was still not quite where he wanted him.

“Closer,” he mouthed, fisting his hand into Rick’s shirt at his chest, and pulled him in until they were face to face, eye to eye.  His eyes darting back and forth between Rick’s, he ghosted his lips over Rick’s teasing them.  He ran the tip of his tongue along the bottom edge of Rick’s lower lip, kissing the corner of it tenderly, moving up along his jaw in small wet sucking kisses until he was at his earlobe.  He sucked the soft flesh into his mouth, and then whispered, “I’ll show you real…” all hot and breathy in Rick’s ear.  His uninjured hand moving down to Rick’s lap, cupping him.  Rick groaned against his lips, and Daryl took that opportunity to move in, his tongue writhing sinfully against Rick’s.  When breath required that they part, Rick gasped as Daryl growled out, “How’s that for real?”

“I’m… I’m not… I think I might need some more convincing,” Rick’s lips spreading in a wide grin.

“Hmm, I’ll hafta try a little harder then, huh?” Daryl smiled, grabbing Rick and pulling him close once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it, folks! Turns out it was just the most awful of nightmares. Rickyl is alive and well, let's hope that continues for many years to come.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure many of you are raging, but please do keep an open mind. Chapter 2 is right around the corner, and I hope it helps to assuage some of the "WHAT THE EVER LOVIN' FECK!!!" that you are feeling right now.


End file.
